


The Sock Man comes to Glipwood

by Mozart_the_Meerkitten



Series: A Birdman and the Jewels of Anniera [1]
Category: The Wingfeather Saga - Andrew Peterson
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, Hearing Voices, Hurt/Comfort, Little Wingfeathers, Mental Instability, Peet needs a hug, Pre-Canon, The Glipwood Township (The Wingfeather Saga)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozart_the_Meerkitten/pseuds/Mozart_the_Meerkitten
Summary: *Please note that this fic has spoilers for the whole Wingfeather Saga*Artham Wingfeather arrives in Glipwood forest, weak and broken, driven on only by the need to protect the Jewels of Anniera.Or: The creation of Peet the Sock Man, and the first time he saw the Jewels in Glipwood.
Series: A Birdman and the Jewels of Anniera [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110272
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	The Sock Man comes to Glipwood

**Author's Note:**

> And here's the second Wingfeather Saga fic I've written that's not a crossover! Woohooo! xD
> 
> So for a long, long time, I've wanted to do a series of short stories centered around Artham/Peet and his interactions with the Wingfeather kids. Because, let's be honest, there's not near enough of that in the series, most of the times he's with the kids is between books. So here's the first one! It contains a lot of my headcanons about Peet/Artham. There's a couple that might be confusing, so I'm just going to explain them briefly:
> 
> 1\. Peet is Artham's middle name. I feel like this is implied because his middle initial is "P", though this is never confirmed or denied in the series.  
> 2\. Since I seriously doubt baby Janner and Tink could pronounce "Artham", I headcanon that they called him by his middle name, thus, "uncle Peet".  
> 3\. This one's not confusing, I just wanna say it; I think that the Shoosters (proprietors of The Only Inn (Glipwood's only inn)) were always nice to Peet. This is based on the 30 second interaction they have in book 4 and the fact that they just seem like nice people.
> 
> Alright! I hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment if you do. :)

Artham P. Wingfeather shuffled through Glipwood Forest, head down, arms wrapped around himself. His clawed hands dug through the already torn fabric of his ragged shirt to pinch the skin underneath, leaving bright red marks. He barely felt it.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking. Maybe a day, but it was hard to tell with the madness muddling his mind. When had he crossed the Blapp? Two days ago? Three? If he was going the right direction he must be almost to the Dark Sea again. He hoped so. He was tired, sick, and hungry. He just wanted to find somewhere to curl up and rest.

But he couldn’t. Not till he found them.

He was lucky the creatures of the forest had shown no interest in him; he didn’t have the strength to flee or fight. He wasn’t sure if it was the Maker’s will protecting him or just his cloven-ness. Whatever the reason, in moments he was sane enough to think, he was grateful for it.

His sanity was in even shorter supply than normal at the moment. If he hadn’t had a purpose driving him on he would have collapsed into the dirt and leaves and given himself up to despair and the voices.

_‘Weakling. You can barely stand. How could you possibly protect anyone?’_

_‘Coward. You ran away. Look how far you are now. Do you think your family will welcome you after you failed? When they see that you escaped while your brother lies dying in Th-’_

“Stop it!” he shrieked, not for the first time that day. He covered his ears with his hands, but they couldn’t drown out the voices in his head. They laughed at his attempts to silence them.

_‘You’ll never be rid of us,_ Throne Warden _,’_ they said mockingly. _‘We’re a part of you now.’_

“Away go. Go-go-go, away! Go away!” he sobbed, shutting his eyes. He resisted the urge to collapse to the ground. He was exhausted. He needed to find the children before he lost his mind entirely.

Abruptly the forest ended, and he slowly lifted his head and blinked as warm sunlight shown down on the ground before him. Fields of weedy, untamed grass stretched out from the trees leading down to…

A town. A little tiny town nestled on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness.

Glipwood. The home of Podo Helmer, where he desperately hoped the old pirate had taken his family.

He stumbled out of the forest and into the fields, the sunlight and hope of seeing his family again reviving him a bit. He looked down at his horrible clawed hands and knew he’d have to hide them. He’d frighten the children otherwise.

He had decided to call himself Peet here. Artham no longer fit him, and thinking of his name made him remember his brother and how he had failed and-

Peet shook his head. So he had decided to go by his middle name. It was easier.  
(And he hoped that perhaps, if he used it, the children would remember him)

Peet walked into the little town, staying in the shadows and alleys. He needed to hide his hands, then he could look for the children. He smelled and saw Fangs walking around the town, laughing and talking. He shuddered at the sight of them, and kept his head down.

It was because of this that he did not see the clothesline.

Suddenly something grabbed hold of his head. Peet let out an involuntary, muffled shriek and swung his arms. Something else wrapped around them and he struggled furiously, things falling on his face trying to suffocate him, his arms being twisted tighter the harder he fought.

He fell back with a panicked whimper, kicking and cutting at his assailants with his claws. Finally the cords snapped, and the things on his head and shoulders tumbled to the ground.

The haze over his eyes cleared and Peet blinked, staring at the shredded shirt and broken clothesline beside him. Other garments sat strewn about the alley around him. He scrambled back against the wall of the nearest building and put his head in his hands, shaking.

Something was hanging from his claws. Peet sniffled and looked at it. It was a sock. He blinked, frowning.

_‘Socks?’_ he thought, looking from his talons to the sock. He bobbed his head. _‘Socks.’_

Curling his claws into a fist he carefully dragged the sock over top of them. He twitched his hand inside and found that he could still move it without much trouble. He picked up another sock and did the same thing to his other hand.

Thus disguised, Peet hurried out of the alleyway. He still kept to the shadows, and his ears twitched, listening for the Fangs or any sign of his family.

Suddenly he caught a whiff of something on the air. Something warm and good and delicious that set his mouth watering. He stumbled towards it, and it led him to the door of an inn. He hovered there, swallowing, clenching his hands in the socks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. When he was in towns or cities he usually rummaged through garbage to find something to eat, and while he could have hunted in Glipwood forest he hadn’t wanted to waste time when he knew he was so close to finding the children.

He should go. No one was just going to give him a meal, they’d be more likely to chase him away. But it smelled delicious, and he was so hungry…

“Can I help you there?”

Peet leapt a foot in the air, heart pounding as he turned to stare at an older woman who was regarding him curiously.

He was so confused by her question and the smell- it was starting to make him dizzy- that he didn’t answer.  
The woman waited a moment, then continued. “If you’re traveling through I can get you a room and a meal for the night.”  
Peet slowly shook his head. “Mo nunny- no money, nee nee eee.”

He ducked his head and turned to leave but the woman caught his arm. The touch was so unexpected that he jumped again.  
“Now hold on then,” she said. “We get by just fine here at the Only Inn. We can manage giving away a few meals to hungry strangers. We are Glipwood’s only inn after all,” she smiled a bit, and before he could fumble out a protest she pulled him inside.

She led him to a table in the corner and, not sure what else to do and too weak and desperate to argue at this point, Peet sat down, twitching nervously.

“Now you wait right here, dear, and I’ll get you something to eat,” said the woman.

Peet sat as still as he could, trying to ignore the accusatory voices in his head. _‘Weakling, you can’t even finish your mission without stopping to rest.’_ _‘Do you think the children are just going to come to you and ask to be protected?’_ _‘Pathetic. A real Throne Warden wouldn’t let a little thing like hunger get in his way.’_

By the time the woman returned, Peet was sitting with his head in his hands, eyes shut tightly, whimpering and muttering. The sound of a bowl being set on the table nearly made him shriek, and he pulled back, looking around so quickly it made him dizzy.

“There you are dear,” said the woman gently. “Some soup for you. There’s more if you want any.” Then she left him alone.

Peet eyed the bowl hungrily, then his eyes darted around, as if he was worried someone would try to take it from him. When no one did he slowly picked up the bowl and raised it to his lips, ignoring the silverware entirely. He forced himself to eat slowly enough that he didn’t make himself sick (which he had found was even more unpleasant than the hunger) but only just.

When he finished he set the bowl down and wiped his mouth absently with one of the socks. _‘Tired. Sleep.’_ He yawned, then shook his head.

He couldn’t rest yet. He had to find the children.

He stood and walked nervously up to the counter and caught the woman’s eye. She smiled at him, and he did his best to make sense when he spoke.  
“Yank thoo, th-thank you,” he stammered after a moment.  
“You’re welcome,” she said, nodding. “If you ever need a good meal again stop by. Name’s Addie, by the way, Addie Shooster, my husband Joe and I run the inn.”  
He nodded. “Peet,” he said, quietly.  
“Nice to meet you, Peet,” said Addie.

He stumbled through thanking her again then walked out of the inn and onto the street. He felt better, stronger, and more alert, than he had before. He struck out again, determined not to stop this time until he found his charges.

He did not have long to wait. He was getting close to the edge of the town when he heard voices.

“Tink, hold your brother’s hand, there, good boy. Janner, don’t let him run off this time.”  
“I won’t, mama.”  
“I’ll drag him with me this time!”  
“Tink!”  
“What?”

Peet watched as around the corner came a dark-haired woman with three small children. Two were little boys, seven and eight years old, and the third was a little girl who walked with a crutch. Even if the sight of Nia and the sound of her voice had not been painfully familiar, Peet would have known the children on sight. The older boy, Janner, with his dark hair and blue eyes, was the spitting image of his father. The littler boy, Tink, sounded just like Esben had when they were children.

And the little girl… Leeli had been just a baby the last time Peet had seen her, but now she was five years old and limping along on the other side of her mother, looking around and smiling at the world. She had shining yellow hair and wide eyes that sparkled with life.

Peet stared at them for a long moment, transfixed, then quickly ducked back into the shadows. He watched them pass, talking and smiling, even as a wave of memories crashed into him. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the building behind him.

_‘You failed! You failed! You failed!’_ shouted the voices and his memories.  
_‘I know,’_ he thought as he watched the Wingfeathers. _‘But I’m nere how. I’ll seep them kafe. Keep them safe, safe, safe.’_

And so he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll write more of these, so keep an eye out for them! If you enjoyed please leave a comment- I treasure them.


End file.
